


of all the stars most beautiful

by dangerbears



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-06
Updated: 2012-08-06
Packaged: 2017-11-11 13:22:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/478986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dangerbears/pseuds/dangerbears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. when isn't the right time for a bookshop fic? louis sells books and harry makes sandwiches and zayn meets someone on the internet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	of all the stars most beautiful

Louis stumbles into the bookshop at 10:45 in the morning. He _thinks_ his shift starts at 11, but it could be 10:30. There's a weird grey area that he's never really fully understood, so he just shows up at 10:45 on Saturdays and waits to see if he'll be reprimanded. It hasn't happened yet. 

"Good morning, princess," Zayn says, glancing up from the computer behind the desk. 

Louis groans and plops down on the stool behind a huge pile of books waiting to be priced. He leans his head on the top one, a guide to birdwatching in New Zealand. People are weird, he thinks. But he doesn't think too hard. Thinking too hard hurts. 

 

Zayn rolls his eyes and digs around in the desk for a second before pulling out a bottle of paracemetol. He tosses it at Louis and it hits him in the back. Louis groans again. 

"Life is shit," Louis gets out after a few seconds of fumbling with the bottle. 

Zayn arches an eyebrow. "My life's alright, actually. You're just an idiot."

Louis shakes his head gingerly. That can't be it. "Pretty sure all life is shit, mate."

"Pretty sure you weren't thinking that last night," Zayn replies, turning back to the computer.

Louis digs out his water bottle from the employee shelf. It's hiding under the stacks of poetry books he's hoarding but will probably never be able to afford, because books seem to come after rent, alcohol, drugs, and cigarettes on the List of Louis Tomlinson's Priorities. He likes to pretend, though, that someday he'll buy them and become fascinatingly well-read and deep and artistic and all that shit. Someday. 

After stuffing six capsules in his mouth, he picks up the birdwatching guide. "Let's go to New Zealand."

Zayn scoffs. "Take a night in. Maybe tomorrow. What'd you do last night?"

Oh. Good question. Zayn likes to stump him like this. Louis thinks he takes some sort of sick pleasure in it. "Someone. Not quite sure who, though. Michael had that party, you know."

"Do you remember the gender, at least?" Zayn asks, sounding entirely bored and entirely unsurprised. He's ordering books online. Louis wants that job, but no one will trust him with it. 

"Get some Bukowski. And, uh. Not to get too, you know, TMI here, but judging by the state of my–"

" _Okay_ , Louis. Got it. Thanks." Zayn turns around and gives him a disgusted look before his mouth curves up into a smile. "At least there won't be any awkward phone calls in two months." 

Louis laughs, before he can help himself. "Shut up! That turned out to not even be me!"

"Which really says something about who you put your dick in, mate." Zayn's _merciless_ this morning, Louis notes. 

"I prefer not to judge people based on how they get their pleasure, thank you." Louis sits up a little straighter, squirming on the stool, and gives Zayn a haughty look. 

Zayn grins and turns back to the computer. "Bukowski's out of print, but I ordered some Ginsberg for you. Though your sales technique needs some work, because accosting people and forcing them to listen to you recite 'America' and then moan on about how it changed your life is generally a bit of a turn-off."

" _Please_ , Zayn, as if anything I do is a turn-off."

Zayn shakes his head. "Right. How could I forget?"

The morning passes slowly, with Louis lazily pricing book after book and Zayn on the computer, doing _something_ – Louis isn't entirely sure. 

After an hour and a half of silence broken only by Louis reading particularly dirty bits of whatever book he's currently pricing out loud, he hooks his chin over Zayn's shoulder and peers at the screen. "Who're you emailing?" 

Zayn blushes and quickly switches to a random tab about the history of the Book of Kells. "Nothing. No one."

"Ooh, _mystery boy_ , then," Louis teases. "Why won't you tell me about him? All you do is send these sappy emails disguised as prose and you don't even tell me – _me_ – your best mate in the entire world, anything about him." 

"They're not sappy," Zayn grumbles. 

Louis kisses his cheek and gives him a pat on the head. "They're sappy, darling. Where does he live, anyway? Is he going to come take you out to a romantic dinner and seduce you? Will you progress from discussing the love lives of superheroes long enough to snog?"

"Shut up. It's noon. Aren't you hungry?"

Louis glances at the clock quickly. "Yes! Good lookin' out, Zayner! So hungry. So very, very hungry. Must get some food. So hungry, yes."

Zayn lets out a choked laugh. "You're that _hungry_ even after last night?"

Louis winks. "A man's gotta eat, babe."

He grabs his sunglasses and stumbles over to the door, pulling a slightly crushed cigarette out of his pocket. "I'll be back in twenty," he calls over his shoulder to Zayn.

"I bet you will," Zayn grumbles sarcastically, and then: "Get me a cookie!"

*

Louis walks slowly up the street, smoking and grinning at random people just to alarm them. Lunch always puts him in a good mood. He goes to this sandwich shop two blocks up, every day. Good sandwiches. Excellent sandwiches. And the service is to die for. Great service. World-class service. 

He stops one door down from the sandwich place and stubs out his cigarette. He glances in the glare of the window of the weird New Age shop, like he does every day. His hair's a mess. The women who work there tend to give him dirty looks for smoking outside their door. He should buy, like, a crystal to cheer them up. Or something. Maybe some wind chimes. 

After getting his hair in some sort of reasonable shape, Louis bounces into Sandwiches on Silver Street. "Good afternoon, ladies and gents!" he calls over to the empty counter. 

A dark, curly head pops up from underneath the cash register. Stupid red lips curve up into a grin as Louis walks over. "Good afternoon, Lou."

"And how are you on this fine and sunny day, my dear Harold?" Louis gives Harry a blinding smile and hopes like hell he remembered to brush his teeth this morning. 

Harry glances down at the counter and then back up at Louis, still grinning shyly. "Better now. What can I do for you?"

" _Well_ ," Louis drawls. "Let me just think on that."

Harry blushes and covers a little laugh with his hand. Louis hides what that does to him by burying his face in a menu and pretending to ponder. 

"Okay! I'd like half a tuna on jalapeño bread. With three cookies."

"Three cookies?" Harry arches an eyebrow as he scribbles down the order.

Louis winks. "Just in case. Hey, what are you doing after work?"

Harry shrugs and moves to the pastry case. "Nothing. Why?"

"Come to The Annex with me and Zayn." Louis slides over some cash. 

Harry glances over at him. "I'm seventeen."

"Niall's tending bar tonight. Just come."

Harry gives him a little smile. "Alright. I'll see what I can do."

Louis bounces a little on the balls of his feet. "Excellent! Let me change my order to the BLT, then. On wheat." At Harry's confused look, Louis adds, "No onions," with another wink.

*

Louis gets back to the bookshop considerably more cheerful than when he left. Zayn narrows his eyes. "You didn't _actually_ get off and manage to get a sandwich all in twenty minutes, did you? Colour me impressed, mate."

Louis slides one of the cookies over to Zayn and curls up on the floor behind the counter where all his partially priced piles are waiting. He unwraps his sandwich and gives Zayn a mysterious look. 

"Harry's coming to the bar with us tonight," he says in between bites. 

Zayn raises his eyebrows. "With _us_ , you say. Aren't you supposed to be taking a night off? And when did I agree to go out?"

"Nights off are for the old, Zayner!" Louis yells. A customer hovering in the erotica section looks over, alarmed. Louis gives him a cheeky grin. "Plus, you're coming because I don't want to scare him off by making him think I asked him out alone to a bar. He's seventeen, Zayn! Practically an infant."

Zayn looks at him weirdly. "Maybe you shouldn't refer to a bloke you're trying to pull as an infant. Word of advice."

"Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn't incessantly email a bloke _you're_ trying to pull instead of, you know, actually pulling him. No one's perfect." Louis shoves the last bit of sandwich into his mouth and grabs one of the cookies. 

"Whatever. Go deal with that guy over in erotica. He's been sporting a stiffy for too long without buying anything."

Louis chuckles dirtily. "You always pawn off the boners onto me." 

Zayn rolls his eyes. "You always seem to enjoy it more."

*

When 5 o'clock finally rolls around, Louis throws his pencil into the air and races around, locking the door and vigourously turning off the OPEN sign and flipping light switches madly. He runs up and down the aisles of books, quickly checking that all potential customers are gone and then plops down on Zayn's lap in front of the register, causing him to drop the coins he was counting. 

"Jesus Christ, Lou. Closing is technically your job anyway, the least you could do is not _fuck it up_." Zayn shoves him off onto the floor. Louis smiles up at him.

"Harry's coming by in a few. Hurry hurry hurry."

There's a knock on the window, then, and Louis jumps up, dashing over to unlock the door again. "Hazza!" he cries. 

Harry smiles and looks down at his shoes and his hair falls over his face and Louis wants to touch it. "Hi," Harry says.

Zayn looks at him rather sympathetically. "Hey, mate, how's it going?"

"Good. Long lunch rush, though. I'm exhausted," Harry replies. 

"But you still want to come with us, right?" Louis asks, suddenly worried. 

Harry gives him a quick look. "Yeah. Yes. If you're sure I'll get in..."

Louis beams. "I am! I've got friends in high places. Er. Low places, maybe is the better term. Plus! Wait a sec." He rushes over behind the counter and pulls out the third cookie. "I have a prezzie for you!"

Harry's mouth opens and then closes and then curves up into a grin. "I wondered."

"I know." Louis can't stop looking at him and, seriously, this is becoming a problem. 

Zayn makes a noise behind him and Louis feels a sharp pinch on his bum. "Shall we, lads?" Zayn says. 

They walk two doors down from the bookshop to The Annex, an old bar that's been a staple for everyone in town since the beginning of time. Louis loves it – it used to be seedy and questionable and he'd sit on a stool at the end of the bar while his dad drank with his mates and the bartenders would coddle him and slip him sweets, and now it's classier (sort of) and filled with twenty-somethings and there's music and movie nights and Louis loves it. 

"Nialler!" Louis yells as they step in the door. 

"Tommo!" Niall yells back, tossing his rag at Louis's face. 

"Got a kid with me, Niall, let's cut him some slack, yeah?" Louis jerks his head in Harry's direction and throws a significant look at Niall. 

Niall grins and shakes his head and sticks his hand out to Harry. "Niall Horan, at your service. I won't ask and don't you dare tell." 

Harry laughs a little and goes red. Louis loves that, loves how easily he blushes. "Harry Styles. I won't."

"So, where are you from, Harry Styles, and why the motherfuck are you hanging out with these two worthless cunts?" Niall starts pulling three pints down and filling them with the cheapest beer as the three of them sit down at the bar. 

"I'm from a little bit south of Manchester, but I work at the sandwich shop up the road from here," Harry says, before glancing at Louis. "And, um, Louis has very persistently tried to get me out with them for awhile and I finally caved."

Niall nods knowingly. "Louis can be very persistent. Be careful, there."

"Oi! Sitting right here!" Louis exclaims. Niall laughs a bit harder than necessary, Louis thinks. 

"Try and deny it, Lou," Zayn puts in. 

"Fuck off, and let's treat this nice boy to a nice night befitting his niceness," Louis says. 

Harry grins and takes a long drink of his beer. "I'm not that nice."

Louis's eyes narrow. "Oh, no? Are you secretly bad under all that niceness? Secretly naughty?"

" _Louis_ ," Zayn says. 

Harry just laughs. "Can't give away all my secrets yet, can I?"

Louis pushes closer to him. "Can't you?" 

"Not till I learn a few of yours," Harry says. 

Louis grins wickedly, but changes the subject. "Speaking of secrets! Zayn has a secret _boy_ , Nialler. I think we have a new mission."

Niall's eyes dart to Zayn immediately. "The internet boy?"

Louis gasps dramatically. "You told _Niall_ and not me? Zayn Malik, I have a bone to pick with you."

Niall laughs. "The perks of being a bartender, mate! Learn everyone's secrets."

Louis pouts and pushes his empty glass around, running his fingers through the rings of condensation left on the shiny oak. 

Zayn rolls his eyes. "God. It's not even a _thing_. He's just this guy from Wolverhampton. Nineteen. Likes Captain America. I don't know. We talk. It's nothing."

Louis whispers to Harry, who looks a bit lost, "It's not nothing. _I've_ never sent an email to someone with the phrase _even though we've never met, I feel closer to you than anyone I know_." The last sentence is pressed deep into Harry's curls and Louis feels a small shiver run through Harry. Louis hides his smile. Success. 

Niall's eyebrows shoot up. "You said that to him?"

Zayn's jaw is clenching and he gives Louis a dirty look. "No. He said that to me. And stay the fuck out of my email, Louis."

Louis quickly puts on his wide-eyed and innocent face. "You left it open when you went to lunch! It's not my fault! That's like leaving a condom on the nightstand – _it's going to get used_." 

Harry snorts a laugh and looks immediately embarrassed about it. 

" _Anyway_ , is he going to come up? Are you going to go down? What's going to happen?" Niall asks as he grabs Louis's empty glass and fills it. 

"Cheers," Louis mumbles. 

Zayn heaves another long-suffering sigh. "No. I don't know. He's mentioned coming up. I don't know. I don't _do this_. I don't know."

"Do what?" Harry asks. "Get laid? Date? Internet-date?"

"Any of it!" Louis yells. "Live a little, Zayner. Get some ass. Or dick. Whichever way you prefer."

"We all know what _you_ prefer, Lou," Zayn says, rather meanly, in Louis's opinion. 

Louis claps his hands over Harry's ears. "Not in front of the love interest!" he stage-whispers. 

Niall works himself into near-catatonia as Harry shakes his head slowly and leans forward to rest his head on the bartop. "Oh my god."

"Zayn is so vulgar," Louis says primly. 

*

They stay at the bar through happy hour and manage to tear themselves away when Niall has to actually go do his job and serve other people who will buy more expensive drinks. Louis is annoyed that he doesn't have a personal bartender to cater to his needs. 

"I'll walk you home!" he says to Harry, bounding in front of him as he turns down the street. 

Zayn peels off the other way, calling behind him, "You're opening tomorrow, Lou, don't forget. Good to see you, Harry!"

"You, too," Harry calls back, before turning to Louis. "Are you sure?"

Louis nods, before biting his lip. "Unless you'd rather I didn't?"

"I – no. No, that's not what I..." Harry trails off, before smiling down at Louis. He holds out his hand. "Walk me home, Lou."

Louis beams up at him and grabs his outstretched hand. "Gladly." 

"So, tell me about yourself, Louis Tomlinson of Directionless Books," Harry says.

"Well, Harry Styles of Sandwiches on Silver, I'm almost twenty and I'm from Yorkshire and I like my whisky neat and my water from the tap."

Harry laughs.

"Now you," Louis says and nudges his arm.

"Well, I'm seventeen and from the Cheshire area and I like my poetry modern and my breakfasts English," Harry says.

Louis grips his hand a little tighter. "What kind of poetry do you like? I've never seen you come into the bookshop."

Harry shrugs and looks a little sheepish. "Didn't want you to think I was stalking you."

Louis gives him an unimpressed look. "You say to the boy who comes into your fine establishment every single day."

Harry smiles, small and pleased. "I like John Ashbery and Denise Levertov and Frank Bidart and Lucy Brock-Broido and Billy Collins and Louise Glück and–" 

Louis cuts him off and pulls him to a stop. "Kiss me right now."

Harry's surprised expression quickly melts into one of amusement and he says, " _Really_ ," before leaning in and pressing his lips to Louis's. Louis pulls him in closer by the back of Harry's neck and they somehow keep the kiss chaste before Louis sucks Harry's bottom lip into his mouth. Louis pulls back, smiling. 

"And?" Louis prompts. 

"Frank O'Hara," Harry says, breathlessly. He looks dazed. 

Louis reaches up and tugs one of Harry's curls gently. "I think I was a really, really good boy in a previous life."

Harry gives him a mischievous look. "Or not."

*

As a general rule, Louis does not enjoy working Sundays. Mainly because he opens, which puts a damper on his Saturday nights, and partially because the sandwich shop is closed on Sundays. And he gets _hungry_.

Zayn shows up at 11:15. Louis thinks his shift starts at 11:30, but it could also be 11. There's a grey area. 

"How'd it go last night?" Zayn asks, dropping his bag behind the counter. Louis is at the computer, reading reviews of The Shin's new album. He turns and gives Zayn a smile. 

"Really good. So good." 

Zayn raises an eyebrow. "That's... good? You don't have your _I've just been shagged for six hours straight_ face on."

Louis opens his mouth in mock-offense. "You say that like I'm _easy_!"

"Well." Zayn rolls his eyes. "So what happened?"

Louis pulls his legs underneath him and spins the computer chair a little. "He reads, Zayner. He reads poetry."

Zayn's mouth curves into one of his rare, sweet smiles. "So you like him, then," he states. 

Louis pauses for a few seconds. He looks at Zayn with a slightly confused expression on his face. "Yeah, I really think I do."

Zayn sits down and studies Louis for few beats, before saying, "It's been awhile, Lou."

"I know," Louis says quietly. 

"I'm happy for you," Zayn responds. 

Louis fiddles with the seam of his trousers. "Yeah."

They're quiet for a minute, until Zayn kicks his ankle. "Budge off, I wanna check my email."

Louis laughs evilly. "Only if you let me read."

"Fuck off and go sort out U.S. History." Zayn tilts the computer screen away and hovers over it protectively. 

Louis sighs and does as he's told. After twenty minutes of rearranging presidential biographies into descending order of attractiveness and back again to alphabetical order, the door jingles. Louis doesn't move, decides to let Zayn deal with people – Zayn's least favourite part of life – as payback for being selfish with his boy situation. 

Louis hears footsteps behind him and he tilts his head backwards, finding himself gazing up the long body of Harry Styles. 

"Hazza!" he exclaims, jumping to his feet. "I've been pining; withering away in this dungeon, waiting for my Prince Charming."

Harry laughs and pulls him in by the front of his shirt, giving him a quick kiss. "Thought I'd come into this bookshop everyone's always talking about. Heard the guy who works here is well fit."

"Bet you're pleased to find you heard correctly, yeah?" Louis smiles. 

Harry's eyes follow Louis's lips and he mumbles, "Mm, you have no idea," before kissing him again. 

"Show me the poetry section," Harry says to him after a few minutes of Louis pressed up against the Revolutionary War shelves. Louis takes his hand and leads him back further into the shop and Harry glances around before pushing Louis against another wall and kissing him one more time. 

"I can't stop," Harry laughs, mostly at himself.

Louis pulls another curl. "I don't mind," he says. 

"I actually did want to see the poetry, though," Harry says unconvincingly. 

Louis nods seriously. "It's very well-stocked, you can take my word for it." He slides his hands under Harry's blazer and slots his fingers between Harry's ribs, stroking upwards, sliding his teeshirt against the warm skin underneath. Harry makes a small noise in his throat and fits his hands around Louis's hips, squeezing lightly. Louis tilts his head back and Harry leans into his neck, pressing small kisses up and down. 

"God." Harry pulls back after a minute. "God. Okay. Show me your favourites."

Louis pushes off from the wall and tries in vain to sort himself out before pulling a few books off the shelf and thrusting them at Harry. 

Harry glances down at them: _Howl and Other Poems_ , _Gasoline_ , _The Last Night of the Earth Poems_ , _Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair_ , _Rommel Drives On Deep Into Egypt_ , _If Not, Winter_ , _Pieces of a Song_. 

"Wow," he says. 

Louis bites his lip. "We have other stuff, if you don't like any of that."

Harry shoots him an exasperated look. "Which one should I buy?" 

Louis considers them before pulling _If Not, Winter_ from Harry's hands and opening it. 

"' _I want to say something but shame prevents me_ ,'" Louis reads. 

Harry slides his hands back to Louis's hips. "Nope," he whispers into Louis's hair.

Louis glances up at Harry, and then back down, flipping to another page. "' _I have been broken with longing for a boy by slender Aphrodite_ ,'" he says quietly. 

Harry kisses him. "I'll take it," Harry says. "Always meant to read Sappho."

"Not very modern, is it," Louis points out.

Harry looks down at the book. "I'll make an exception."

*

After several more kisses and vague plans for after closing, Harry leaves with the book and Louis sits down on the floor at Zayn's feet, resting his head against Zayn's knee. 

"You guys are a total meet-cute and I'm disgusted," Zayn says.

Louis groans. "He's perfect. He's so perfect I want to rip off all my limbs and eat them."

"Well, as long as we're not descending into hyperbole."

Louis looks up. "How's internet boy?"

Zayn makes a noise. "He has a name."

"Yes, dickhead, and you haven't told it to me!" Louis pinches Zayn's thigh. 

Sighing, Zayn flicks Louis on the head before brushing his fingers through Louis's hair. "He's called Liam. He's talking about taking the train up to Manchester next weekend."

Louis sits up. "What'd you say?"

Zayn bites his lip. "I haven't said anything yet."

" _Zayn_."

"I know. I know, okay. I just. What if it's weird? What if, like, I don't know, he doesn't like me after he gets up here? What if I'm misreading this entire situation and I go in expecting something and he freaks out?" Zayn rubs his hand over his face. 

Louis crawls up and fits himself in Zayn's lap. Zayn grunts. 

"Zayn. Zany-Zayner-Zayn. Let me just. Okay. First of all, if he meets you and doesn't like you, there is something fundamentally, inherently, irredeemably, and genetically wrong with him. Second of all, it might be weird because it's, like, you know, kind of a weird situation, but plenty of people meet on the internet these days and you can power through the initial awkwardness, alright? Thirdly, sorry, but he's completely into you and you've got nothing to worry about there." Louis curls into Zayn's body, resting his head on Zayn's shoulder. Zayn's hand finds its way back into Louis's hair. 

Louis feels like a cat. 

"You're such a bloody cat, mate," Zayn says. Louis muffles his snort into Zayn's neck. "But, like. Okay, yeah, I mean, you're right, for the most part. I just. Whatever. Okay. Okay, I'll tell him it's a good idea. I guess. God."

"Beautiful!" Louis says. "More cuddles now, Zayn. Courage cuddles."

*

The week passes slowly for Zayn and wonderfully for Louis. He sees Harry at his lunch breaks and they kiss over the sandwich counter and the cooks yell cheeky things at Harry and Louis laughs at Harry's blushes. 

They go to The Annex on Wednesday for Niall's shift. 

As they walk in, Niall raises his eyebrow. "You two've progressed, then," he says, nodding at their interlocked fingers. 

Louis pushes his fringe back from his forehead and bats his eyelashes at Niall. "You moved too slow for me, baby. Had to get some where I could." 

Harry rolls his eyes and Zayn rolls his eyes and Niall rolls his eyes. 

"You should all get that weird tic checked out," Louis comments. "Pints!"

They settle down with their beers and Zayn mutters something under his breath. 

"What was that, Zayner?" Louis asks.

Zayn purses his lips. "Liam's coming up on Friday."

Harry, Niall, and Louis all stare at him. 

"Well," Louis says slowly, "thanks for letting us know, wanker."

"I just did!" Zayn protests. 

Elbowing Louis before he can respond, Harry asks, "What are you going to do together?" 

Zayn shrugs. "Dinner? Watch movies... I don't know. God. This is so stupid."

"Nah, mate, you're fine, I tell you what, my cousin met this bloke on some weird Northern Irish Protestant dating site and he turned out to be a complete psycho and wore earrings made of old bits of broccoli, yeah? So, like, I bet Liam won't do that." 

They all stare at Niall. 

"A Northern Irish Protestant dating site?" Harry repeats slowly. 

"And he turned out to be _crazy_?" Louis asks. 

"I'm _shocked_ ," Zayn says. 

"What's your cousin like, mate? I'm a little worried about your family," Louis says. 

"Oh, fuck off, all of youse. Smart plan, insulting your bartender's family," Niall spits. 

Louis laughs and reaches over to pull him into a hug. "It's okay, we know you're all fucking mad as hell."

"Anyway," Harry says smoothly. "Zayn. Don't worry about it. Just think of it as, like, an experiment."

Louis bursts out laughing. "Zayn's done his fair share of experimenting, so that should be a breeze."

Zayn turns to glare at Louis. "I _know_ you'd rather I didn't bring up some of your _experiments_ in front of Harry, so I'd watch your mouth, Lou." 

Louis keeps giggling, burying his face in Harry's shoulder. "Wait, what?" Harry says. "I want to hear."

Niall quickly shakes his head. "You really don't."

Louis sits up, still laughing a little. "Oh, fuck off, don't scare him. You couldn't find anything _that_ bad to tell him."

Zayn raises his eyebrows. "Alright, remember Derrick in sixth form? And that gym period? And Coach O'Neill?"

"Oh shit," Harry laughs. 

Louis widens his eyes. "Oh my god. I actually _had_ blocked that one out and now it's all rushing back, oh my god, oh my god. I may need therapy."

Harry throws an arm around Louis's shoulder and whispers in his ear, "How 'bout I take you home and make you forget all over again?"

Louis hops off his barstool. "Later, lads. Just got a better offer than this bollocks."

*

Louis opens on Friday and at promptly 10am, a tall boy walks in. 

"Hello," the tall boy says.

"Well, _hello_ ," Louis says, and gives him his best smile. "How may I be of service?"

"Oh, um?" He seems flustered. "I'm actually looking for, um, Zayn Malik? Does he work here, or..."

Louis sits up. "Are you Liam?"

The boy looks a little nervous. "Um, yeah? Are you, um, Zayn?" He looks even more nervous now. 

Louis laughs probably harder than he should. "No! God, though, you're cute, this is going to be so great. I'm so excited. Come back here, have a seat. Zayn should be here in about forty-five minutes. Enough time for you to tell me all about yourself."

Liam stares at Louis for a second. "Or I could get coffee and come back?"

"Nope!" Louis says cheerfully. "Sorry! Sit down and talk."

Liam gingerly sits on the stool at the far end of the counter. And doesn't talk. 

"So!" Louis looks at him expectantly. 

"Um. I'm, um–"

Liam is mercifully saved by the door jingling. Louis looks over as Zayn rushes in, frazzled and sputtering. "Lou, I think I told Liam we opened at 10 and I forgot I wasn't opening, oh christ, has anyone come in looking for me?"

Louis grins wickedly. "I'm just gonna go sort out the sci-fi section. And not eavesdrop. At all."

Zayn looks confused, then glances down the counter. "Oh. Fuck."

"Um. Hi?" Liam says. 

"Hi. I'm Zayn. I'm so sorry. Did Louis say anything bad? He was lying. Also he's going to be dead soon." Zayn's staring at Liam. 

Liam's staring at Zayn. 

Louis hums Boyz II Men as he skips down the aisle to sci-fi. 

*

On Saturday night, Louis makes Zayn and Liam come out for dinner with Harry and him. 

"It'll be fun!" Louis says.

"No," Zayn argues. "It won't. It'll be you and Harry being disgusting and me and Liam being awkward and it won't be fun."

"Disgusting? How very dare you!" 

"Please," Zayn scoffs. "I've seen more tongue these past two weeks than I've ever wanted in my entire life."

Louis wrinkles his nose. "Ew, what? Why are you watching so closely? Perv."

"Shut up," Zayn says.

"The Spur at 7, Zayner. Be there."

"Whatever."

*

Liam is quiet, and Louis has a problem with that. Well, okay, no, he doesn't necessarily have a problem with quiet people. Quiet people are a fact of life and Louis accepts all kinds of people. Including quiet ones. 

But Liam is quiet in a way where he makes Louis feel like he has to _try harder_. And for Louis to try harder just means he amps up every annoying quality he has. 

After twenty minutes, Harry's nails are digging into his thigh under the table and Zayn is glaring at him.

"What the fuck is up with you, Louis?" Zayn asks, clearly annoyed. 

Louis kind of shuts up in the middle of whatever pointless story he's telling. He looks at Harry, who raises his eyebrows kind of expectantly. 

"Sorry," Louis sighs. "Sorry, sorry, sorry. And you thought _you'd_ be the nervous ones, eh?" He chuckles self-consciously. 

Liam kind of half-smiles. "Zayn tells me you're a big Ginsberg fan, Louis?"

Louis brightens up at that. "Yes! Quite! Yes."

Liam gives him another small smile. "Me too."

Harry's hand relaxes on Louis's thigh and Zayn sighs with a bit more serenity and Louis feels his heart rate returning to whatever normal is. 

"Good. I approve."

He settles in for the rest of the meal. Zayn and Liam sort of fold into each other and start having quiet conversations on their side of the table by the time the food is brought out and Harry smiles at Louis. 

"It's going well," Harry says, nodding over at them.

Louis nods. "Good for them, yeah? Never thought I'd get to double date with Zayn unless we were watching porn next to each other or something."

Harry wrinkles his nose. "Please don't."

Louis laughs and leans into Harry's chest. Harry wraps an arm around him. 

*

After dinner, Harry walks him home. 

"Never thought you got nervous," he says. 

Louis smiles a little. "I just knew you were a sure thing."

Harry laughs. "Naturally."

They walk along silently, hands swinging between them.

After awhile, Louis glances up at Harry. "But, you know, you might have to slip me a few Xanax if you want me to meet your parents."

Harry smiles and presses a kiss to Louis's hair. "Noted. They're visiting me next week, by the way. Told them about you."

" _What_?" Louis screeches, coming to a halt. "What did you tell them, Harry Styles?!"

Harry looks unconcerned. "Just that you're a pornstar. They're excited to meet you."

"I'm not going to be able to sleep for the next week, I hope you've realised that." 

Harry grabs Louis's hand again and pulls him into his body. "Just as well I had no plans for sleeping, yeah?"


End file.
